He calls her Oksi, and she calls him Libi. True, when she gets angry, she "calls him" by his last name – Drobilek (hinting at his pedantic, grinding disposition), to which he calmly remarks that very soon she too, Oksana Nevmyvaka, will become pani Drobilkova. For seven years now they have lived "in two countries," but very soon their common home will be the Czech Republic.
Czech Language as a Profession and More
"I never looked for a foreign prince. And the Czech Republic entered my life quite unexpectedly," Oksana laughs. "I ended up at the Faculty of Philology of Kyiv State University by chance. In those days, in 1993, law was in fashion. But I was afraid I wouldn't get into that faculty, so I chose Slavic philology. And when the group was being assigned languages, a friend persuaded me to choose Czech language and literature as my future specialty. That's how I began studying Bohemistics. And I have never regretted my choice. Czech came easily to me, and after my first trip to Prague, I was forever charmed by the Czech Republic. In my fourth year, when I learned that the Czech Center in Kyiv had an opening for an assistant director, I hurried to the interview. And now I have been working there for eight years."
Libor Drobilek also wasn't looking for a foreign princess when he came to Kyiv in the autumn of 1997 to organize the exhibition "The Czech Republic – Your Partner." At school he had studied a little Russian, and, on top of that, they assigned him a pretty brunette with cheerful dimples in her cheeks, who chattered away in Czech. So they had no language barrier at all. And what about the notorious difference in mentalities?
"In the Czech Republic there is a very interesting trend – residents of the northern part are more drawn to the West, while the population of the south is closer to us, their eastern neighbors. Sometimes Czechs who came to Kyiv really offended me with their arrogant attitude toward Ukrainians. You could feel that they considered themselves Europeans – more democratic, more advanced. But what won me over in Libor was his tolerance. As a true native of Moravia (a southern region of the Czech Republic), he took everything calmly and with humor and never tried to lecture anyone," Oksana recounts.
Two weeks of working together flew by quickly and... And nothing. "When he was leaving, Libor asked for permission to call me," the girl recalls. "I was a little surprised, but of course I didn't refuse."
Perhaps everything would have been limited to rare calls and holiday cards, but then Oksana's friend went to study in Brno and invited her to visit. When Libor learned about this, he was very glad. After meeting Oksana, he didn't let her out of his sight. And, saying goodbye, he suggested spending the summer vacation together. That's when she realized: it seems this is serious.
Days, months, years raced by. During this time Oksana defended her candidate's dissertation on Czech syntax, and Libor moved to work at a state insurance company. They met as often as they could: Oksana tried to get away to the Czech Republic more often on business, and Libor came to Ukraine for the holidays. And, of course, every summer was only theirs. Turkey, Austria, Greece, Spain – they both love to travel. And one time, standing on the famous Charles Bridge in Prague, Oksana touched the cherished figure of the monument to Jan Nepomuk and made a wish...
And very soon they are getting married. They will live in the house of Libor's parents near Brno. Oksana's future mother-in-law is very glad: finally her eldest son is starting a family. Of course, she worries about how her daughter-in-law will settle into their home, whether she will master the intricacies of Czech cuisine. And her future father-in-law keeps his finger on the pulse of all events in Ukraine, and the first question he asked Oksana when she arrived in the spring was: "And where is your orange scarf?" Libor chuckles: the Czechs also went through a revolution, and the subsequent economic downturn, and joining the European Union.
Neighborly Conversation
How is life for them, our western Slavic neighbors? Both Oksana and Libor say: the Czech Republic has already walked the path that Ukraine is now following. Soon after the Velvet Revolution, prices began to rise sharply, difficulties with finding good work appeared, and all utility services became more expensive.
Now life in the Czech Republic flows at a measured pace: the average salary is about €500, the minimum is about €250, and food is not too expensive. A kilogram of meat, for example, costs about 20 hryvnias. Clothing and interior items are cheaper. And Oksana is pleasantly surprised by the price-to-quality ratio of typically feminine things – hairdressing and cosmetic services. But even if you have your own apartment or house, it is difficult to live on €500-600. About a third of the salary goes to taxes (income, pension, medical insurance, etc.). Another third goes to paying utility bills.
The Czech Republic buys energy resources at world prices, and, naturally, ordinary citizens have to foot the bill. And as if that weren't enough, they promise to raise electricity charges by 30% next year! Unsurprisingly, the Communist Party in the Czech Republic is among the top three in the number of seats in parliament. But young people have already gotten used to it and adapted: they diligently study foreign languages and try to start their own businesses.
The lifestyle is also different. "Czech women dress tastefully and well, but not too flashy. And you won't find SUVs in the city for love or money. In the Czech Republic there was never a shortage of consumer goods or cars, so there is also no desire to show off one's wealth," Oksana laughs. "Investments in health, in one's family nest, in travel – yes, that is customary. Quite successful businessmen calmly ride the metro and buses. Public transport runs on schedule, it is convenient, clean, and not overloaded. Five years will pass, and we will have the same."
A luxury is owning one's own home: those who rent an apartment give half their salary for rent. A plot of land for construction costs about $40,000, and construction will cost the same. So for such an undertaking, they usually take a long-term loan. The mortgage rate is low (4-5%), but the deposit rate is also small - 1.5-2% per annum. So the fate of a rentier does not threaten Czechs. You have to pay a certain amount for opening an account and for maintenance. Plus taxation of the profit received. If the deposit amount is small, you can even end up in the red. "And once, Czechs had an additional €100-120 a month just from interest," sighs Libor. In his opinion, Ukrainian bankers will also come to a similar decision.
"And another distinctive feature of the Czech Republic is that there is no feeling that life is in full swing only in the capital. Most Czechs have no desire at all to move to Prague at any cost," notes Oksana. "Every Czech town, even a village, has everything it needs: clean, well-kept parks, swimming pools, tennis courts, inexpensive cozy cafes. The level of service is the same everywhere. In addition, the environment in the Czech Republic is much better."
Czech everyday life of an international family
"There are no problems with the kitchen," notes Oksana. "I happily gobble up knedliky with cabbage, and Libor has come to love Ukrainian borscht."
Financially, Libor is still the main breadwinner: Oksana is still planning to complete the scholarship course she received. For those who have a residence permit as a family member (and it is issued within six months after filing an application with the Department for Foreigners), getting a job is quite simple. Diplomas from some of our universities are also valid in the Czech Republic - for example, a diploma from Taras Shevchenko Kyiv National University. Oksana simply translated her diploma and the supplement into Czech, certified the translation at the Czech Embassy in Ukraine, and sent it along with a corresponding letter to the Ministry of Higher Education of the Czech Republic. And soon she received a positive result.
"There is work, although you need to look for a good place," Oksana shares. And she is also puzzling over how she, a born "night owl", can restructure her daily rhythm: in the Czech Republic, in most institutions the working day starts at half past seven in the morning!
Libor is calm, self-confident and solid. And also, as the lively and spontaneous Oksana assures, stubborn and secretive. Libor just shrugs his shoulders and smiles patronizingly: although at first glance their ten-year age difference is unnoticeable, he feels wiser and more experienced. He likes how his Oksi looks: stylishly dressed, subtle makeup. In Prague, for example, most girls are pointedly dismissive of their appearance. True, in small towns people try to look better. And in the Czech Republic, special attention is paid to shoes. There is even a saying: "Clothes make the man, but shoes make the gentleman."
Libor keeps silent about the beauty of Ukrainian girls, just in case looking at Oksana warily. But Kyiv has become much prettier over these years! "True, it is still striking how darkly and gloomily Ukrainians dress in winter," the Czech shrugs in surprise.
Perhaps because Oksana communicates fluently in Czech, both the groom's parents and his acquaintances do not even perceive her as a foreigner. "All our disputes or differences concern only the difference in the perception of the world by men, who, as popular psychologists write, are originally from 'Mars', and women, who are from 'Venus'. And national characteristics, fortunately, do not affect us yet!" Oksana laughs. Well, life shows that the inhabitants of Mars and Venus can always find a common language!